[To be fair, Weir can't complain too much, given the current state of his town. Turner's Vale is now flourishing, food and drink available to all. Things grow better, practically bursting from the ground; the hunting is good. He eats well.
But before? A middle-of-nowhere village, scrabbling for trade resources, hardly treated a Dredger as a man who needed a five-star meal. He was lucky to be kept fed at all, and even that was only as a necessity -- a malnourished Dredger was not one that hefted resources aplenty out of the Pit.
He doesn't accept nor deny her apology either way, though. He just follows through when she leads the way, straying into the kitchen.]
...What an alien place.
[It's so, so modern. It doesn't even look like a kitchen to him.]
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But before? A middle-of-nowhere village, scrabbling for trade resources, hardly treated a Dredger as a man who needed a five-star meal. He was lucky to be kept fed at all, and even that was only as a necessity -- a malnourished Dredger was not one that hefted resources aplenty out of the Pit.
He doesn't accept nor deny her apology either way, though. He just follows through when she leads the way, straying into the kitchen.]
...What an alien place.
[It's so, so modern. It doesn't even look like a kitchen to him.]